


springtime

by orphan_account



Category: The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Genre: 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basil's POV, Dialogue Heavy, Friendship/Love, Gentle Kissing, M/M, Resolved Romantic Tension, Romanticism, Short & Sweet, Spring, Walks In The Woods, victorian flirting bc thats the kind of world they live in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Basil and Dorian share a walk in the woods.
Relationships: Dorian Gray/Basil Hallward
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	springtime

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe this has to be said but yes this is purely something that i wrote out of self indulgent fun and no i'm not trying to be oscar fucking wilde. i couldn't care less how this comes across as a piece of amateur fanfiction and no i'm not a literary genius otherwise i wouldn't be publishing to a fanfiction site. if you're going to be mad for some reason about how this work is worded and think i'm trying to make myself out to be some kind of poet then okay stay mad lmao but again!! this was written out of fun!! cheers 😊

Through the glades a veil of picturesque sun shards projected onto the ground in ample abundance. My shoes of leather stood as a lake to Narcissus against the rays, nearly absorbing the impending but warmth. A fine breeze met the canopy sheltering my companion and I from above. I felt its cool caresses against the nape of my neck, merely a draft but uncannily stirring. 

I had on that walk unquestionably witnessed manifestations of springtime. Long gone were the gaunt days of winter which I could hardly tolerate after spending much of the season in bleak company. In the audience of Dorian, however, all bleakness and all aridity of atmosphere had been instead been replenished with a warm spirit of gaiety sui generis to him. 

We had left our lodging at what seemed an absurd waking time. For the past week, he and I had been sojourning at a quaint inn at the northern fringe of Hereford; a retreat proposed by Mr. Gray antecedent to our separation during the winter. For the dreadful epoch that was the preceding season I found myself yearning for his company, day after day; and when the time came for me to set eyes upon him again at long last, the grievous anticipation I'd been besotted with for an ungodly amount of time felt worthy of its result. Dorian wore the most genuine expression of glee as I reunited with him at the station, and seemed reluctant to let go of the blessed façade even a week since its dawn. 

"Careful!" I heard a laugh from behind me, and in due time too. Dorian's keen eye had spotted a naturally camouflaged log I'd been bound to stumble over had he not brought it to my attention. "Don't want to spoil that coat, do we? Besides, had you taken even less care I'd buy you another. And another, and another, another, another, until you can ruin as many as you desire!" 

A potential accident averted by sheer wit, I smiled and stopped torpidly against the foot of a sturdy oak - two hundred years standing at least. In spite of his prior warning I suspected some residue of moss off the log would make its home on my coat; though if his offer were true I could spoil the coat a hundred times over. "And yet just one would do. What would I do without you, Gray? Sharp and keen as a lighthouseman. God! What a trivialisation would it be to grant myself the luck of having your companionship when a hundred men aren't worthy. I truly am indebted to you."

Dorian strode towards me with boldness through the litterfall, most of which had been dried out into the ground to make way for a meadow of wild flowers which seemed nearly out of place when held in comparison to the tremendously proportionate trees. "How could you make such a remark? Of a hundred men, my dear Basil, I'd take naught if you hadn't counted as one."

"Is that a fact? Well, in that case," I paused as my eyes unknowingly trailed up Dorian's pristinely kempt face before settling on his eyes - unprecedented hues of cerulean and a queer green highlighted by the spring atmosphere, "I count myself as the most fortunate man in England."

"Fortunate! Any man could have fortune. Those with an excess - take myself as an example, Basil - have such fortune that they lack in brevity. A genuine richness comes from one's character. Damn the excesses, at times I feel burdened by them. But you," he paused as if to deepen the narcotic gaze we shared. Dorian stepped even closer, not quite closing the gap between our figures but to my absolute mesmerisation close enough to have our hands touch. "Mr. Hallward, I dare argue that you're the most fortunate man beyond what you consider a righteous fortune. I envy you."

"Envy? One sin closer to hell, my dear Dorian. What could you possibly envy about me, hm? I've nothing of remarkability about me besides my labour. You'd be a fool to envy an artist."

"I think I shall envy whomever I please." He stood still as though he wanted to pace while his feet were tied to the ground, though nothing about him suggested he felt the need to leave his position astray. "I envy the way you can be perceived beyond face-value, beyond that quiet and sequestered façade, yet I find myself at a loss for words the more I study your face alone. It's a wonder I've found the might to speak these words. I sincerely hope you can forgive my brashness." 

_Brashness?_ A mutual inarticulateness mingled overhead with the shadow from the glades. I hadn't the words to express anything; shock, disdain, pride, or neutrality. Above all I hadn't the belief in the least that a man like him could envy anything about me. Visually he stood to me as would a butterfly to a moth, and there had certainly been no evidence of me being as engrossing of a person as his accusations would imply. Contrarily, there was no reason for me to argue back in favour of my beliefs since he'd retaliate with wit I could barely dream of having. 

I'd made it very clear to myself that words would be of no use, so I went in search of a deed. The gap between us perished as my hands folded onto his lapels and pulled him against me, our lips melodiously meeting in as jovial a tryst as our reunion at the station had been. I felt a smile emerge against my mouth, which caused me to do the same and ultimately ended the first in what I pray are many kisses to come. After having felt little over every emotion before dawn was through, he and I spent the rest of the day in total enthrallment and anticipation for what the rest of our holiday had in store. 


End file.
